note;This is a quick present for a friend o' mine whose name starts with the last letter of the alphabet, and ends with the first.
Just a short little something I decided to do on a whim, partially because I haven't written anything in a while.
This kind of has no plot whatsoever. Or logic of any kind, for that matter. ;D
So sit back, relax, and keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times.

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unconventional.

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"Are you sure we're allowed to be here?" Tangled red ringlets shiver atop the fearful face of a ten-year-old girl. They shake violently with each worried glance she takes toward the menacing DO NOT ENTER sign swinging precariously on its rusted nail, the grinning faces of monsters that don't exist leering at her from every shadowed corner, every rustling tree. Breaking the so-called rules doesn't bother her – she does that on her own often enough already – but complaining about the darkness isn't something that would cause the owner of the hand enclosed in hers to heave a sigh and turn around. Because the leader of this little expedition is as fearless as they come (as most leaders seem to be), and the only thing to shake her would be the idea of being banned from the TV all weekend.

And of course, it doesn't work.

"Stop being such a baby, Janet!" the other girl whispers, glancing backwards to toss her friend a smile that glitters in the dim glow of the streetlight. "You're gonna be thirteen tomorrow. Almost a teenager. It's time to celebrate properly."

A shuddering breath is taken of the cool night air, but Janet finds no confidence. She grips her friend's hand tighter as the pair begins to tiptoe through the sleeping gate, as though the sound of their sneakers would provoke an attack.

"Um… Kaye?" Janet pleads, barely audible to even herself.

Almond-shaped eyes look back at her when they come to a stop. "Hush. The party's about to begin!"

And that's when Janet realizes that they are standing right at the entrance of a dilapidated carnival, with Kaye pointing a soda-sticky finger straight ahead of them.

A weathered carousel turns in the breeze, the painted horses trotting in a perfect circle, the moonlight catching the chipped color of their hair, of the ornaments adorning their snouts. The hue is fading, but beautiful all the same.

For a moment, Janet is lost for words. It might not be as 'mature' as a rhinestone-covered t-shirt or a tube of lipgloss, and it certainly isn't very conventional, but she feels pinpricks of tears start to gather at the corners of her eyes anyway. Because this gift is so very Kaye, and theirs is as unconventional a friendship as anyone could ask for.

"So," the blonde prods, evidence of an excited giggle coloring her tone, "what do you say we go for a ride?"

And all darkness is forgotten once the two girls' feet step onto the rickety wood of the platform, heads held as high and as proud as the carved horses they sit on. Laughter shoots through the air like confetti, and childish grins wave in the wind. One last night to be a kid (with scraped knees and missing teeth and Orlando Bloom who?).

"One last night 'til she leaves again," Janet mutters quietly to herself.

One last night.

Let's make it memorable, the red-head sighs, and throws a smile to the only real friend she's sure she'll ever have.